“Wah, ini kad sudah lima tahun wo…(wah, this card is five years old..)” said the Mak Cik Guard  as I handed in my matric card, signifying my last day as a UTP student. I wanted to keep it for memory’s sake but they wouldn’t let me. I had to hand in to get a clearance endorsement (one of the many other seven departments).

And as I stood there while waiting for her to endorse my form, all 7 minutes of it, it finally hit me that I’m really leaving for good.  For the past five years, I have packed and unpacked, signed clearance forms for the hostels I’ve stayed and somehow the process seemed never-ending. But this time, this time…

~*~

“Jom kite pakai baju raya buat final exam! (Let’s wear our Raya clothes to sit for our finals!)” one of my coursemates suggested at our Google group and I found myself laughing upon reading his message. Nobody liked this subject that we were taking, it was one of those extra compulsory subjects that extended our stay in campus. It was a new subject, there were no past year papers to give us an inkling of how it was going to be like. The days of mugging were coming to an end, and my coursemates, in their Raya mood, wanted to end it with a bang.

The moment the clock struck 5.30pm, everyone was restless. The paper was tricky, and it wasn’t easy – but all of us knew that it was over. That final paper marks the final haul of our degree life.

“Mai tangkap gambak semue!!! (Everybody, let’s take a picture!)” A tripod was set up, the camera with wide-angle lens was mounted and everyone gathered efficiently. All it took was a split second of the shutter to emboss a memory of a lifetime in our hearts.

~*~

“Hi, I’d like to graduate, please,” I chirped as I handed in my clearance form for its final endorsement from the Exam Unit. The lady smiled upon my comment and teased, “Are you sure you’re graduating?” making me laugh nervously as I thought about my less-than-impressive performance of my final paper. She asked me to drop my form into the box on the right and they will take care of it, this was the last station and I was to submit my form here anyway.

That’s it? I thought. Just drop the form in there and I’m ready to go? She must’ve noticed the puzzled look on my face, and added, “Don’t worry, we’ll endorse that form afterwards. Many more students coming in anyway.” I smiled politely and made my way out. As I was halfway through the door, I looked back and asked again,

“You’ll endorse it, right?”

~*~

“Hello, Wei Vern, come in. I assume you’ve heard the good news? Your work has been accepted to a conference in Bali.”

“Yes, Dr.  So, who will be presenting it?” I guess I was silently hoping for a free holiday.

“I will present it on your behalf. I do hope you will consider doing your Masters here. You’ve built a very solid foundation in nanotech research with your final year project.”

“We’ll see what my sponsors have in store for me. Who knows, if things turn around I might consider your offer.” I replied politely. It was nice to know my research has been appreciated, but this time, I really needed a break. I was there to hand in my final hardbound copies of my report. After expressing my gratitude and exchanging goodbyes and well wishes, it was time to go.

~*~

As I walked slowly back to my room, for the first time the pace was slow. I realized that in these 5 years, I’ve always been walking fast paced to classes and meetings. And this time, I was just taking my own sweet time, capturing mental images of the impressive academic building as I went along. Truly, UTP is gorgeous. She has her flaws in her own ways, but no one can deny that this was a world-class structure, in a class of its own.

Oh, and there’s always something not working, I chuckled to my thoughts as I walked past the broken elevator at Pocket C.

As I was just a few steps away from leaving the Academic Complex, I turned around and looked at it for one last time. Not bothered if anyone was watching, I took a final bow, like a closing punchline to the last chapter of a book.

It’s almost time to write a new one.

~*~

“Can you bring your small compact camera tomorrow?” I asked Tania.

She looked slightly surprised by my request but agreed anyway. I said I was too lazy to bring mine around, I was already bringing a book.

“Oh yeah,” I remembered, “let’s have the Ipoh Chicken Rice tomorrow for lunch!”

Having spent five years here, I got rather sick of Ipoh’s famous Nga Choy Kai (bean sprouts & chicken) and would only have it when my parents or friends from outside are in town because that’s what everybody comes here for. But that Saturday night, nostalgia started kicking in a little bit and I thought I’d have it once more before I leave this town that has earned a special place in my heart.

~*~

On Sunday, we left to fill our tummies with the famous Lou Wong’s chicken rice. To-date I have never developed a preference between Lou Wong’s and Onn Kee’s version, despite their years of rivalry and strategically placed right across one another. I’ve always had this theory whereby they are both owned by the same person, and it was just a clever business tactic to attract more customers.

The real superstar of Nga Choy Kai, is of course, the nga choy (bean sprouts). You can never find fatter, juicier bean sprouts than the ones in Ipoh. Like they say, it’s something in the water.  As I rummaged through the plateful of vege, I made a careful observation.

“The thinnest bean sprout on this plate is probably the fattest we’ll ever have in Penang,” I concluded.

~*~

After lunch, it was time to visit my favourite hairdresser in town. Eddy dislikes her because he thinks she charges too much and mom dislikes her because she’s more daring than any other hairdressers I go to.  There was one more item in my to-do list that I would like to get completed before I graduate: To get a short, really short haircut. A graduate from Toni & Guy London, Yen Ping has the style of one of those celebrity hairdressers we see in magazines.

“Hey! You’re the one from Penang! It’s been awhile since you last came,” she uttered in fluent Cantonese. She ruffles my hair, and chided gently, “Your last haircut wasn’t by me, was it? Your hair is growing out of place!”  I smiled at her comment, and told her what I wanted. She nodded and proceeded to give me her signature massage while washing my hair. After weeks of hard work in school, this was what I needed. I even managed to convince Tania to get her hair washed too.

[pullquote-left]She knows I’m a Christian, and would always say “God bless you!” whenever I leave even though she’s a Buddhist. Such little things warm my heart.[/pullquote-left]As usual, she entertained me with her stories on how she became a hairdresser and how it was like in London when she was there, and I would listen with great interest. When she was done with my hair, I was pleased with the results. The shortness threw me back a little at first, but eventually I grew to like it. I like how I don’t have fringe messing with my eyes!

“Can I have a photo with you?” I asked politely. She was puzzled by my request, but quickly understood when I told her that I am graduating soon. She told me to visit her whenever I’m in town, and that she will miss me. She knows I’m a Christian, and would always say “God bless you!” whenever I leave even though she’s a Buddhist. Such little things warm my heart.

~*~

Then it was coffee time. We headed straight to Starbucks, and I ordered my usual. For once, I was reading something out of the academic context and without a single worry about deadlines at the back of my head. The day felt very relaxing, and there is nothing more precious than having a good cup of coffee, a good book and a great companion on a Sunday evening.

I felt blessed, and I felt refreshed. It has been a long time since I had such a weekend. We sat by the window and people-watched too, and drew up a short list of things to buy when we head to Tesco after this.

The day was still young, and so are we.

~*~

~*~

Who would have thought that the kid who always had her head in the clouds would be able to take on a research title such as “Functionalization and Characterization of Multi-walled Carbon Nanotubes/Polypropylene Nanocomposites”?

She didn’t think she would either.

But after one whole year of research and experiments, a gold medal confirmed that the entire journey was real. My sleeping, eating, thinking hours have been turned upside down with this project ever since I started my final year, and now, I realize that in two weeks’ time, it will all come to an end.

Time has never flown so fast.

While the finishing line is near, there are still many hurdles along the way. Somehow, I feel a little different now. Instead of dreading the workload, I just want to do my best and close this chapter on a sweet note. Nostalgia hasn’t kicked in yet, surprisingly, but I believe it will come. For now, I’m only looking forward. Life has taught me to learn from the past, live in the present and keep moving towards the future.

Thank you, Jesus. Yet again.

“I’ve been in this business for 47 years.”

His statement was beaming with pride yet slightly cooled with the sips from his iced coffee.

He, is Uncle Chow. And Uncle Chow is the owner of Keng Heong, or more affectionately known as The Pink Shop, the coffeeshop that we frequent daily for lunch and sometimes dinner.  I have mentioned about him before in this post whereby his RM1 bought me a smile.

Last night, he brought us to Menglembu’s night market to taste probably the best Laksa in Perak. It was so good that we had to wait for our seats, and even then, many couldn’t be bothered to wait for their turn. It was like a competition to see who got their own seats first.

There were six of us, including Uncle. He made sure we all had our seats first, while he stood and waited for his. And when we got to our table, instinctively, like the kopitiam uncle we know, he took the table cloth and wiped our tables clean for us – at a stall that was not his. He disappeared for a moment and returned with Taiwan fried chicken and some famous popiah to fill our tummies while we wait, and refused to accept any payment.

Taste-wise, it was the best Laksa I’ve ever had during my 5 years here in Perak. If only I knew about this place sooner. And this is coming from a Penang-bred Laksa snob.

After our meals, he let us take our time to roam about that huge night market (which according to him has about 100 over stalls), and offered to quench our thirst when we were done. He drove us to a nearby coffeeshop (also filled with a galore of food), and ordered iced coffee for each of us. With just one sip, our senses were heightened with the rich aromatic flavor, something quite rare in iced coffee. I can only imagine how it would be like if drunk hot. Next time, next time.

He shared secrets of how to make a good cup of white coffee. Granted, even his own coffeeshop makes good coffee (and in a very generous portion too). Then he asked us about our origins and which school we went to in our secondary years. Then I asked him a little bit about himself. From our conversations, it was pretty obvious that Uncle has “eaten more salt that we have had rice”, and we were all amazed by how he stayed on in the small Tronoh town for 47 years. He knew generations of UTP graduates, names we’ve never heard of, including those who have gotten married and started their own family. We wondered if we would come back in the near future for a little reunion.

The Malaysia vs Singapore match was live on telly. I learned how the aggregate system works (never been a big fan of football), and we cheered as Malaysia scored the first goal. We continued our conversations until Singapore even the score, resulting in groans over the kopitiam. We left before the match was finished – and while we may have lost the game, we won ourselves a very good cup of coffee, courtesy of Uncle once again.

I’m definitely going to miss Uncle Chow when I leave this place.

This is the Uncle who makes sure we get good cash bills in return.

He’s also the Uncle who charges us Rm1.00 for our hearty bowl of soup, when others charge RM1.20.

He gave half his durian to us (despite other customers present) during dinner.

When his friend made him a limited jar of (awesome) home made chili paste, he took it out and shared it with us over our meal.

He’s much older than us, more experienced, and a successful owner of a business that feeds hungry UTP students everyday.

But he’s the most humble man I’ve ever met.

And dining with an icon of humility, is great honor.